by Daws, Amy
Her eyes turn into saucers and her jaw goes slack.
“Before my attempt, Daphney said it was lucky and that I should make a wish whenever I see it. So that’s what I do because it’s better than the eerie sensation I get every time it appears to me. It has become even more important after Marisa’s death. Some people pray before bed. I do this.”
An unnerving look fleets across Vi’s face, but she shakes whatever thought she was having away. “So, what do you wish for?”
“Vi, really—”
“Tell me,” she insists.
I clench my jaw in frustration. Being open with Vi has never felt like an obligation until this very moment, but I don’t have it in me to tell her no. “First, I wish the accident never would have happened. Then I wish she never would have died. And since rehab, I began wishing I wouldn’t have slit my wrists. And…” I look down, suddenly shrouded in shame.
“And?”
“I wish I would have died instead of Marisa.” My voice is hard and cold. Cutting. It’s best she knows the darkness that still lives in me.
Her face falls. “Is that really an option you wish for?”
I nod.
“Still?” Her blue eyes are swimming with anxiety.
I nod again.
She swallows hard. “I see.” She turns around, mumbles something at Bruce, and walks back into her flat. Her posture hunched.
My heart fills with despair.
“Vi,” I plead, following her inside. When I touch her shoulder, she turns and flashes her wide, challenging eyes at me.
“What?” she snaps, grabbing her hair and balling it around her fist.
“You have to understand that I battle years’ worth of demons. Demons I still fight inside my mind. I can’t just blink all of that away.”
“Why don’t you wish it away?” she quips, her tone snotty as she chucks her hair behind her back.
“What the fuck is your problem?” I growl angrily, pacing the room. “I stepped outside to do this. I get that it’s strange and stupid, but it’s something I have to do. I’m not sure where you get off acting all self-righteous over it.”
“Hayden!” she exclaims, balling her fists beside her. “You tell me you’re not weak, but this sounds scary. And I just found out the guy I’m falling for wishes his life away. How is that supposed to make me feel?”
Her words hit me like a punch to my gut. Weakness is representative of all that I want to leave behind. Picturing Leslie’s face the moment she found me after carving into my wrists was the lowest I ever felt. To hurt someone like that…To put her through it all. I hated it. Is making these wishes at 11:11 considered weak?
“These wishes make me feel safe,” I croak, not knowing how else to explain myself.
“Safe, how?” she asks, her tone nearly a shrill.
I inhale slowly through my nose and tell her yet another thing I’ve never revealed to another person. “A few years ago, I was pissed out of my mind on both booze and pills. I was driving, like a fucking moron, and I looked down at my speedometer. The miles on my car switched over to 1111 just as the clock struck 11:11. It shook me to my core. The next thing I knew, I wrapped my car around a tree and spent several weeks in the hospital.”
“Hayden—” she starts, but I cut her off.
“That was the first time people started throwing the word suicide around with my name. That was when Mum started the charity. That’s when I became the fucking family charity case.” I suck in my cheeks and bite down, ignoring Vi’s reaction all together. “This is the one thing that brings me comfort with my recovery, Vi. So I do it.”
A painfully quiet and charged moment passes between us. Her blue eyes look like they are searching mine for something. Something I don’t have inside of me to give away.
As if defeated, her soft voice utters, “Okay.”
I blink at her, my eyes squinting in confusion. “Okay?” I ask for confirmation.
She nods woodenly. “Okay.” A sombre, yet helpless look crosses over her face, and whatever it was she thought just then forces me to eliminate all space between us. As I take her in my arms, she looks up at me with watery eyes. “I’m sorry, Hayden. This is hard for me, too. This is your journey and I can’t walk it for you, but I hope you know that you don’t always have to fight alone.”
My heart soars and sinks with that one profound statement she just spoke. The look in her eyes as she stares back at me is a look of surrender. As if she’s got no other choice but to give herself to me completely. As if her level of interest in whatever it is we have between us trumps all bad habits and it terrifies the shit out of her.
Her arms wrap around my waist and I clasp them firmly behind my back. The trembling in her body hurts my heart. “Please, Bunny,” I murmur into her hair. “Trust me to figure this one out. I promise, I just need time.” I kiss the top of her head and wish the vow I’m making to her be true with every fibre of my being.
The next morning, I walk back home, or to Theo’s flat I should say. As soon as I swing open the door, I’m greeted by a beaming Leslie.
“Welcome home!” she sings from her place at the dining room table with Jaci. They have several binders spread out all around them.
“I’ll be in touch,” Jaci says with a huff of annoyance, like my mere presence alone could spoil all their work. She stands and bustles past me, pausing to give me a nasty once-over. “Has he been fitted for a suit?”
Leslie nods. “Yep! We’ll get him cleaned up, don’t you worry.”
A painful smile splits across my face as I scratch my whiskered chin. Jaci makes her hasty exit. I lift my brows, giving Leslie an “are you serious” look. She shrugs her shoulders good naturedly while eyeing my clothes from last night.
“Where’s my favourite girl?” I ask, attempting to delay the conversation that I’ve felt coming the last couple of weeks.
“Sleeping upstairs with Theo.”
“Another rough night?” I guess, striding over to the kettle and pouring myself a cup of tea.
“You guessed it. But you wouldn’t know because you’ve been MIA the last two weeks.”
I flinch, touching my right cuff self-consciously. I pour some milk in my tea and walk over to join Leslie at the table. “Sorry about that.”
“No need to be sorry, Hayden. You’re a single, twenty-six-year-old man. And, hey, I have Jaci in my corner. That broad may be a crusty, British, upper-lip, tight-ass, but she’s my wish come true.” Leslie’s eyes narrow from behind her mug. “But no one cares about that. Let’s hear it, Hay Day. Did you get way laid?”
Frowning, I shoot a warning glare at her. “So not funny, Leslie.”
“What? I thought it was funny. I rhymed!” Her sea green eyes are brighter and happier than I’ve seen them in months. Maybe Jaci no K is a miracle worker after all. I smile to myself at how Vi can make even the happiest of people happier.
“This is awkward enough without you making it more awkward with lame sexual jokes.” I slice one hand through my hair and prop my head on it, my thoughts scattering all around me. It’s strange that I haven’t been confiding in Leslie about all matters concerning Vi. Since my attempt, there’s an unspoken openness between us that makes Leslie the one I go to the most when I’m feeling troubled. I talk to Theo some, but there’s an ease with Leslie. She was in the trenches with me. She’s my sister in combat. She saved my fucking life.
“What’s awkward about it?” Leslie asks. “I love Vilma. I think she’s perfect for you.” Leslie’s tone is bright and excited, obviously feeling everything I’m trying to avoid feeling.
I sigh heavily. “Do you really think this is a great idea? I mean, how could you? She’s a mate of yours and I’m…well, fucking crazy.”
“Hayden!” she snaps. “You’re not crazy and I will smack you if you call yourself that again.”
I roll my eyes. “I was in a loony bin for thirty days, Leslie. I’m a mess and Vi is…Vi.”
“You were in rehab, Hayden. Hell,
Ke$ha went to rehab. It’s practically a trendy hot spot these days.” I eye her harshly and her light tone falters a bit. “Hayden, look. I know you. If I tell you you’re worth it, you’re worth it!”
“This is different, Leslie. Vi’s special. She deserves more.” I bite out the last word and swallow hard thinking about the impending doom I feel every time I consider that thought I know to be true.
“Deserves more than a Clarke brother? No such thing! You guys have super powers.”
I shake my head, putting a pin in this conversation for now. “I’m being stupid,” I scoff and offer her a cocky smirk that symbolises the complete opposite of what I feel on the inside.
“Hey!” Her eyes flash with excitement. “Why don’t you bring Vi over to Frank’s tomorrow night? It’s family flick night. Could be fun!”
My face recoils. “I don’t know, Leslie. I think it might be a little soon. Won’t Rey and Liam be there?” While it wasn’t horrid being around them a couple of weeks ago, avoiding them is a lot better for my own sanity.
“No, they haven’t come since the pub’s been up and running. And what do you mean, too soon? You guys have been hanging out together for a couple of weeks. It’s not like you’re asking her to marry you. Vi’s my friend! It’s just a casual evening with some friends.”
I nod silently, mulling it over for a moment. “I guess it couldn’t hurt.”
Leslie cheers at her win. She immediately starts texting Frank while I attempt to snuff out the painful ache of insecurity hurtling through me. Feeling everything I’ve allowed myself to feel for Vi isn’t just scary for me. It’s dangerous.
The next night, Vi meets us at Theo and Leslie’s flat so we can all ride over to Frank’s together. I feel a bit like a couple of pubescent teenagers stuffed into the backseat of Mum and Dad’s car on our way to a school dance, aside from Baby Marisa nestled snuggly between us in her infant seat.
“Everybody all buckled up?” Leslie crows from the passenger side as Theo slides in behind the wheel.
“You’re seriously wearing that?” I ask Leslie, my tone flat and clearly unimpressed.
“I wear it every time.”
Vi giggles. “You should have gotten me one, Leslie. I would have joined you.” My eyes swerve to her, and I can’t tell if she’s joking.
“I’ll place an order for future flick nights, Vilma!” Leslie fist bumps Vi moronically, then cries out, “Boom. Converted another!”
“Still won’t get me,” Theo grumbles as he buckles up.
“Hey, I got Frank, I got Finley, I got Julie. Hell, I even got Brody!” She turns and nods her head eagerly, clearly impressed by herself. “It’s only a matter of time before you Clarke brothers submit to my redheaded superpower wiles!”
Leslie is referring to her cheetah-print, onesie, footie pyjamas. She’s actually wearing them in the car with trainers on over them, clearly not the least bit embarrassed to be riding through the streets of London in the getup. Apparently they all wear onesies on family flick night. It’s part of their thing. I didn’t tell Vi about it because I was certain she wouldn’t want one. Clearly I was mistaken.
“Brody is whipped,” Theo grumbles. “You got enough leg room back there, Hayden?” My brother’s cocky chuckle gets right up my nose, but I let it pass. “How about you, Vi?”
“I’m good!” she chirps in response and I smirk at her happy demeanour.
When I pitched the idea of family flick night to her last night on the phone, she seemed shocked that I’d want to hang out with friends so soon. Then I told her I was prepared to meet her brothers any time, which I think really floored her. She keeps going on about how scary they are, but frankly, they are the least of my concerns.
Theo pulls out of the carport and drives us through the dark streets of London like one big happy family. I peek down at Marisa, who has hold of my finger and is attempting to yank it into her mouth repeatedly. Her eyes are wide and curious as she takes in the flashing lights.
I glance up to find Vi watching me. She smirks. I smirk back. She licks her lips. I lick mine. As if we are being drawn together by some outside force, our heads lean into each other and our mouths connect in a soft, sweet kiss. It’s the kind of kiss that leaves me wanting more, but also completely satisfies everything inside of me like I’ve never had better.
Marisa’s sudden cry interrupts our tender moment. I pull back from Vi, laughing. “Don’t be jealous, Marisa. You’re still my number one girl.”
“Number one is it?” Vi tsks in mock offence, her grin still permanently in place.
“She’s my number one girl,” Theo objects from the front seat. Leslie’s hand reaches over and strokes his. “Tied for number one,” he adds curtly and cuts a heated squint at her that forces me to look away.
We arrive at Frank’s and waltz through the large purple door framed in climbing ivy. I’ve never been to Frank’s, but it somehow suits him. It’s a large, imposing home, but when you walk in, there’s an energy unlike any other.
Frank bounds out of the living room on our left. “The bloody Clarkes are here! Hide the family jewels!”
Leslie’s eyes turn into saucers. “I believe it was my jewels that you always stole, Frank and Beans. Along with my Bedazzler.”
“Christ, gingers sure can hold a grudge.” He glares meanly at her, then looks at mine and Vi’s hands clasped together. He ropes his arm with Vi’s and pulls her away from me, leading her toward the dining room. His voice trails back into the foyer as he says, “Why, Vi. Hopped from Ethan to Hayden faster than you can say Frank’s your uncle! I have to say, I’m impressed, dear girl.”
My face falls and I move forward quickly, but Theo stops me in my tracks with a hard hand on my shoulder. “Don’t be a fool, Hayden. It was a joke.” He gives me an annoying matey pat on the shoulder. “You’re better than that.”
Am I? I swallow hard, my clenched jaw rocking side-to-side in frustration. Just thinking about Ethan and Vi makes my blood boil. But fuck, Theo’s right. I know what Frank’s like, so why is it bothering me so much?
Finley and Brody join us in the living room, both wearing their own footie pyjamas. They sit cosily next to each other on the couch as Brody holds Marisa somewhat awkwardly, and Finley looks so happy she might burst into tears. They’ve been married for about a year now, and Leslie has mentioned to me that children won’t be a part of their future. But watching them right now, I’m not sure they know it.
“I think we should do it now,” Finley says, looking up at Frank sneakily as he readies some snacks on the coffee table.
Frank’s eyes alight knowingly. “All right. Everyone remain calm. This is not a drill. We have a bit of a surprise for Marisa, so if you’ll all follow me.”
Finley passes Marisa back to Leslie, and I find myself so intrigued that I follow the group up the large staircase to the second floor. Frank stops in front of a closed bedroom door and turns back to us while dramatically coiffing his puffy red hair.
“This was my idea,” Frank starts.
“Bullshit! It was my idea!” Finley interjects, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with him. The two of them are wearing footie pyjamas, looking like the biggest fools as they bicker over whose idea whatever it is we’re about to see was.
“Oi, all right, Fin-Bin. It was your idea, but you need to thank fuck I was around for the design process or you would have had it decked out in K-State University drivel.”
“Frank!” Finley cuts.
“Why don’t you guys just open the door,” Brody asks calmly.
Seriously, Brody is a big, brawny, man-type of bloke and seeing him in his onesie is disturbing. Finley must have some serious pull over him to get him to wear one of those.
Finley smirks and opens the door. Following her lead, we all walk in to one of the most beautiful nurseries I’ve ever seen. Not that I’ve seen many. Honestly, I feel a bit poorly because I’m in the bedroom that would normally be Marisa’s perfect little nursery at Theo and Leslie’s flat if it
wasn’t for me. But Leslie says she wants to keep Marisa close for a while anyway, so having her crib upstairs next to them works best for everyone.
I take note of the expensive-looking crib covered in a funky, loud, floral-print of fuchsias, pinks, reds, and oranges. Next to it is a safari baby bouncer, a fire-engine-red changing table, nappies, wipes, the works. The walls are a soft cyan colour with white crown moulding everywhere, allowing the decorations to make the statement. A modern, grey, upholstered rocker is nestled perfectly in the corner. It’s a trendy baby’s dream come true nursery. A day bed even rests along the window making it not just a nursery, but a place for mum and dad to stay when they visit as well.
Leslie hands Marisa off to Theo and does a complete survey of the room, remaining completely silent. I think we’re all waiting to hear her reaction as she runs her hands along the crib. Finally, she covers her mouth as she turns to look at Theo. Her eyes are drenched with tears and, without pause, Theo rushes over to her and hugs her with his free arm—an unknowing Baby Marisa smashed happily between them.
I look away and rub my face annoyingly as my own damn eyes start to prick. Vi catches sight of me and I frown, grabbing her hand and pulling her out of the room.
“You okay?” she asks softly.
I nod. “Yeah. That’s just…I know that means a lot to Leslie. Her family isn’t the best.” I don’t offer any more details on the matter because it’s not my story to tell.
“You’re really close to her, aren’t you?” Vi’s eyes squint curiously as if she’s trying to piece together why I’m reacting so strongly.
Feeling strangely, like I need to minimise what Leslie means to me, I huff, “It’s nothing. Let’s go downstairs.” I take Vi’s hand in mine and lead her toward the flight of stairs. I freeze in my tracks when I see Reyna standing below.
“Hey,” she says, looking up at me in surprise and pausing her climb up the steps. “I didn’t expect you to be here.” Her eyes cut down to my hand in Vi’s and, for some reason, I quickly let her go.
